


try a little tenderness

by patrokla



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Stargazing, set in a pocket universe where michael and alex had more than one good night in high school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 23:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18061988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patrokla/pseuds/patrokla
Summary: He’s been suppressing the urge to fall asleep for a while now, enjoying watching the stars with Alex much more than he enjoys sleep.





	try a little tenderness

**Author's Note:**

> As the notes say, this is set in a slightly AU version of canon, where Michael and Alex still get together at some point in senior year, but have a few weeks/months before Jesse discovers them.
> 
> Title from the 1932 song, "Try a Little Tenderness."
> 
> Warnings: very, very brief allusion to abuse.

Alex turns on his side, the movement scratchy on the nylon of Michael’s sleeping bag, and looks at Michael.  
  
“Can I ask you a question?”  
  
“Shoot,” Michael replies, yawning. He’s been suppressing the urge to fall asleep for a while now, enjoying watching the stars with Alex much more than he enjoys sleep. Sleep will bring the morning, and school, and the two of them pretending that they’re just casual friends - all things that Michael actively dislikes.  
  
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”  
  
Michael laughs at the cliche, and Alex smiles a little, but raises his eyebrows expectantly.  
  
“You really want to know?”  
  
“I really want to know,” Alex says seriously.  
  
Michael looks at him, spread out on the sleeping bag in the bed of his truck. He and Alex have only been doing…whatever it is that they’re doing for a few weeks now, but he likes Alex. He really likes Alex.  
  
So, against his better judgment, Michael looks back up at the stars and says honestly, “I want to go to space.”  
  
“Like, as an astronaut?” Alex asks.  
  
“Sure,” Michael says, “Or however. Maybe I’ll be one of the first Mars colonists.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
Michael glances at Alex, and he looks genuinely curious, which surprises Michael for some reason. It’s the surprise that nudges more honesty out of him.  
  
“I don’t belong here,” Michael says, trying and failing to quash a note of bitterness. “I’ve never belonged here, not really. I guess I feel like maybe out there, I might?”  
  
“Oh,” Alex says, and then he wriggles closer to Michael, close enough that Michael can feel the warmth of him. It’s a welcome contrast to the cool desert night, and Michael moves closer in return, so that their sides touch.  
  
“I feel like that too, sometimes,” Alex says softly. “The not-belonging.”  
  
“Just sometimes?” Michael asks. He can’t imagine escaping that constant feeling of wrongness that follows him wherever he goes, from foster homes to group homes to school and back again.  
  
“Just sometimes,” Alex confirms, and then he moves even closer and presses a careful kiss against Michael’s cheek.  
  
“Oh,” Michael says, but it’s more of an exhalation than any coherent word. He finally tears away his eyes away from the stars and turns towards Alex, kissing the bridge of his nose, and the corner of his smiling mouth, and a faint bruise on his jaw.  
  
Alex moves even closer, running a warm hand down his back and then back up, under his shirt. Michael can’t suppress the smile on his own face, and he doesn’t try, just hides it against Alex’s shoulder and lets himself bask in Alex’s warmth and attention.  
  
They never really fall asleep that night. Instead, they drift sleepily and cat-nap until the unwelcome sun begins to push up past the horizon. Michael drives Alex back into Roswell, close enough to his house to make it inside before his dad wakes up, and far enough away that no one will see Alex kissing him goodbye.  
  
Michael watches Alex walk down the street, turning to wave at him before rounding the corner. He’s already counting the hours until they’ll see each other in their third period English class.  
  
He won’t realize it until much later, when the time between their meeting stretches from hours to months and years, but in this moment he’d felt just the same as Alex. Like he'd finally, without ever going to space, found a way of belonging.


End file.
